


Last Exit

by oneswhonever



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Depression, Insomnia, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:29:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneswhonever/pseuds/oneswhonever
Summary: There is one way out.





	Last Exit

**Author's Note:**

> Exasperated writing and it sucks. Loosely implied Septiplier.

Sometimes not sleeping for days at a time could really take a toll on you. Jack had to discover this the hard way.

Sometimes this was completely by choice - staying out late with Mark and Felix, being up until the deepest hours of the night surfing the internet. Most of the time, however, this was inevitable. His terror, his anxiety, his rampant thoughts - the deadly trio that kept his head swimming, far too preoccupied to even consider the idea of sleep. And on the grander scheme of things, sleep was unnecessary. Who had time for sleep, anyways, with so little time in the day?

There came a point in Jack's life where he considered his options very carefully. He weighed the possibility of dropping out of school, quitting his job. He considered getting really hurt, like jumping in front of a car or something that would limit his abilities to do any work; thus, evading responsibilities. He had little in life that he was required to do, but it brewed up past mundane tasks. Even after a night out with his friends, his mood was prone to absolutely crashing to the ground with no real reason. His mother gave him a reason - depression. 

Depression, she had said, could take over your whole entire life. And, if his current reality would be the whole of Jack's life - he didn't want it. Mark told him, repeatedly, that this wouldn't be the rest of his life. That one day, he'd be able to move on. Felix threatened once to tell Jack's mom about the thoughts racing through his head, when Jack once made an offhand comment about literally jumping off a bridge. He always forgot to watch his mouth. 

He reasoned with Felix; said that he was a coward, would never actually do it. Jack himself knew that this was untrue. If pushed far enough, he would do  _anything_ to escape the torture that he felt on an everyday basis. It once came down to smoking weed in Mark's basis and letting Mark touch him and, if anything, it only made things worse.

Jack wasn't the type to smoke weed and have sex with anyone - stranger or not. And he felt tainted for letting it happen so easily. It only proved that the moment he let his guard down, someone would come in and completely tear him to the ground. It wasn't rape - but Jack laid awake for hours afterwards wondering why he ever let it get that far. It set his progress back years. The feeling of guilt practically swallowed him.

He viewed himself as a shitty person.

He couldn't handle his stupid part-time job; working at a novelty gift shop, where all he really did was fold shirts and ring in people's orders. He had great co-workers, and some questionable management. He could cuss like a sailor, and there was no dress code. Essentially, it was his ideal position. 

Until it wasn't, because of course Jack ruined it - he ruined everything; why would this be any different? It was his fault, completely, when his assistant manager came behind him and started grinding his hips, hard, into his ass. Asking if he wanted to go into the bathroom and fuck. It left Jack a stammering moron, but the word  _no_ never even crossed his mind, and certainly never left his lips. It was his fault. He never said no.

He considered, many times, just not showing up for work. Because he really couldn't handle the reality of going in and seeing him. He reasoned with himself; saying that nothing would ever happen again, that he wouldn't ruin the man's life over this one insignificant thing. Until it happened again, and he was asked if he would give him a blow job right there on the sales floor. Did Jack say no? Of course not. Because he was an idiot; because he would always let himself be pushed around, it didn't matter by who. 

He didn't stop going to work. He let himself be tormented, because that's how things in the real life worked. If you didn't suck it up, you would lose your job. After other failed positions at other companies, he refused to start the drama at the one job he actually liked. 

He began having panic attacks about the thought of even going in and seeing him, and at that point, slipped back into an old habit. It stung for the first few times, but it was bittersweet - as he would rather hurt than keep on crying. The first night he relapsed, he also swallowed a half a bottle of NyQuil, and just like that, had the best trip of his life. 

He was dizzy, that much was certain. He couldn't walk straight, he couldn't type correctly - and for awhile, he was so numb that he actually felt like he might die. It was a comforting thought that left a fire in his belly. 

He lived. Because even suicide was something he couldn't get right. 

Mark got on his case about it. Told Jack that he loved him, but that he was stupid. Irrational. He wasn't thinking clearly. That maybe he was just looking for attention and this way a cry for help. Really, this couldn't be farther from the truth - because, as everyday passed, Jack's urge to end his life grew and grew and just kept fucking growing. It was to a point where he planned everything out. He had the pills, had the alcohol (rubbing alcohol, to be precise), and an exact game plan. 

Mark didn't believe he'd do it. Felix didn't believe he'd do it. But, of course he wasn't going to fucking do it.

He didn't want to live the rest of his life in his current state. It would never go away. 


End file.
